In This Broken City
by Alice Nox
Summary: AU. Teenage Jim and Spock live in a post-apocalyptic world where it becomes nessisary for them to team together in order to survive. But soon survival isnt the only reason they stay together. Please Rate and Review!
1. Prologue

The air was thick with death and hopelessness. The stark chill of it cut through clothing, seeping into bodies and corroding souls. Street lights stuttered, as if shivering in the sicking cold of the night. Under the stuttering lights the garbage of the city street was transformed into diamonds, sodden with dew. The world seemed lifeless, only coming alive to dance in the October breeze. The emptiness was suffocating, not a single body walked this night.

That is, except for a single teenage boy, scarcely clothed in only a worn pair of jeans that hid dirty sneakers, a black jacket and white T shirt. His face was concealed with a hood, but he walked in defiance. He walked without fear or woe. Down the city sidewalk he strode in silence, he paused for nothing and no one. Death had taken all that loved or cared about. His only company now was sparkling street garbage and the sicking winter air.

And yet, he was alive. Walking amongst torched city shops, broken dreams, and broken dead bodies. As the Alive Boy walked he made a vow. He would not become a broken dream, he would never let his body break and rot like those he had seen on the street every day and night. He would never be like the broken neon signs he saw from time to time, bleeding their luminescent light away into the filth. He would survive in this fragmented post-apocalyptic world.

With his vow the Alive Boy looked to dark night sky past the shivering city lights to his only form of comfort. Stars brighter than anything in the broken city shimmered back at the Alive Boy, illuminating his soul. And as he whispered his vow to the universe his hood fell. With eyes closed tears slipped down his face, leaving streaks in the blood and dirt there.

Alive Boy stood like that for a long time, his slovenly blond hair becoming a halo in the wind. Finally, his long lashes matted with tears rose as he opened his eyes. And from that point on there was something brighter than the stars in the night sky in the broken city. Glazed with tears his gold speckled hazel eyes shimmered. While they held great sadness, happiness lived within them as well.

With his auroral eyes locked onto the stars Alive boy smiled, because he knew he was going to make it.

Miles away another teenage boy was looking to the stars as well, his black hair and sharp features hardly visible in the night. But Far Away Boy was looking to the stars because knew he was going to die. He had bled though every rag he had peeled from the dead and put on and he could smell the stench of his flesh rotting. The wound on his side was far too great.

However, Far Away Boy did not know that he was not alone in the fragmented city, and that a boy only months younger than him, who was brighter than every star in the sky, was going to be his shimmering salvation.

But neither Far Away Boy Or Alive Boy knew this as one of them walked on through the city and one collapsed from blood loss. Only the universe watching over them knew of how their fates intertwined.


	2. A Beach To Walk On

Warm, he was so warm. The world around him was enveloped in the red setting sun's temperate heat. There wasn't a patch of frost in sight. Overhead, blood red skies of his home blanketed the world, seagulls and storks flew seemingly suspended in a timeless dance. He curled his toes in the warm yellow sands, relishing the feel. In the distance, the ocean sang a lullaby that was one of his life. It was even in the air, the salty smell of an ocean that seemed to never end. He filled his lungs with it, wanting to capture all he could of his home.

Over the tranquil sound of the lulling ocean he could hear his parents. His mother's soft laughter, his father's gentle teasing of all that was not logical. Tears flooded his eyes - he was home. And yet, he felt empty. Looking around, his tears plummeted to the earth, splashing on the sand. Fastidiously, he moved his left hand and brought it to his right side, just below his ribcage. Anguish filled his very soul when he felt wet, sticky warmth there. Bringing his hand up to his face to examine it, he bellowed - the slick emerald that stained his hand revealed the world for what it was.

A mirage, born of his nostalgic heart. With this knowledge his heart broke, and the illusion fell away. His parents' voices melted away into nothingness. The heat drained from the artifical beach, sun disappearing, leaving nothing but darkness. He stood, watching his home disappear for second time, wailing, tears cascading down his defeated face. With his tears the ocean grew wild until it too washed away into the darkness.

Finally he stood on the patch beach, alone. Falling to his knees he screamed into the nothingness. And he continued to scream even as he felt each particle of sand begin to fall away from beneath him. Then, the last grain of sand, of his home fell out from underneath him and he too was plunged into the darkness.

He opened his eyes to the familiar, sinking feel of being cold and empty. But there was warmth too. He could feel a soft heat on his back. And he realized there was glow coming from somehere behind him. Wiping away his tears he tested his side. It still ached but the endless stabbing pain was gone. He moved his hand to survey the wound and to his shock, he felt a thread that was woven in and out of his skin, closing the gash. The rancid cloths that had been cemented to his flesh by pus and blood were also gone. In its place was a relatively clean shirt.

"I hope that's OK. I tried to do the best I could without hurting you any worse" The voice behind him made him freeze and stiffen. But logic won over his fears - if the person had meant him any harm he would not have helped him so.

Slowly he raised himself into a sitting position, turning to that thankful heat, and the voice that had spoken to him. He was left breathless at what he saw. A teenage boy very close to his age stared back at him from across from the small fire. The boy was clad in only a haggard pair of black skinny jeans, beat up sneakers, and a unzipped black jacket that exposed a well toned torso.

"No, it.. it is quite well. Thank you." he stuttered. It had been many moons since he had talked to another living soul, let alone one so close to his own age.

"And I don't know _what_you had shoved into that gash of yours, but it was putrid. I was half affraid they were gonna take off skin when I removed them. But once I got them soaked with a bit of water they came off pretty easy. Oh, and I hope you don't mind but I put my shirt on you. Didn't want you getting hypothermia or nothin' like that. Sorry its not cleaner."

He could barely keep track of what this boy was saying, he was so taken aback. This boy had saved him for seemingly no logical reason, clothed him even. He wanted to reply, to thank the boy, but the processors in this mind refused to fallow his commands. So he sat staring at the boy, mesmerized by his hazel eyes, watching the gold speckles in them shine occasionally in the light from the fire.

"Oh and my name's James by the way." James, so this golden being was called James.

"I am Spock. I am in your debt, James."

James began to talk again, but Spock was too lost in his own thoughts. Thoughts of how James's hair, despite being messy, seemed to create a halo above his head. Inwardly Spock wondered if James was really an angel who had come to save him from death. Whether or not James was indeed an angel, Spock did not know. What he did know however, was that he was going to repay this boy, no matter what it took.

James and Spock sat like that much of that night, sitting in the dirty city alleyway with only a single small fire. Neither noticed that each one forgot about what they had lost, if only for a short time. Lost in conversation they simply lived, and enjoyed each other's company, trying not to think whether or not they would have to kill each other the next day. James had after all, taken a chance, knowing he quite possibly saved a murderer. For in this Broken City...Nobody could be to sure of anyone's motives.

To Be Continued...


	3. Far Away Boy's Past

"So what..." Jim paused as if debating whether or not to proceed with this train of thought. "..what happened you?"

The two teenagers had been talking for almost two hours, since Spock had regained consciousness. The whole time they hadn't really discussed anything particular or of any importance - they had simply been jumping from topic to topic trying to keep themselves occupied. Spock was slightly unsettled, as Jim had once again done something that common people (the ones who were left, anyway) simply did not do.

First, he had saved Spock when there was seemingly no personal gain in doing so. Now, he was asking what had happened to Spock. This perplexed him - nobody ever asked what had happened to another person. There was no point - the same thing had happened to almost everyone. And if it was different, it didn't matter, the journey was not important. The present was, the attack had come, everyone had lost people they loved, and they were all left to live in the aftermath. That was the reality that they all lived in.

"Please specify, James". Although it was true the journey of how the two had come to meet in the city was not important, that did not mean Spock was completely comfortable speaking of his past. Because besides the taunting nightmares, it was after all, all he had left of his life before.

"Spock, I told you an hour ago you could call me Jim." Jim gave a chuckle, then paused, all the humor draining from his golden features. "But you know what I meant." Suddenly Jim's face took on a flustered feature, and he couldn't seem to look into Spock's eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. " I don't mean to pry Spock, I'm just curious. And I ...uh... I heard you when you were unconscious - you cried a lot."

A sticky, suffocating silence seemed to fill the space in between them and around them. The only sounds were the crackle of the small fire and rats running up and down the sides of the soiled alleyway walls.

Spock closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Exhaled slowly. Jim watched in interest as he practically saw the tension in Spock's body leave with his breath. Jim watched Spock like this for many minutes as Spock's eyes remained closed. When Spock finally opened his eyes Jim held his breath waiting for Spock's response.

"My father, Sarek, was a Vulcan scientist for the government. His job was to try and prevent an attack like this one from happening." Spock tilted his head to indicate the ruins around them that was once San Francisco. "He was very dedicated to his work, often times I would not see him for months at a time. However, when my father and I did interact the meetings were never pleasant. From a young age my father wished for me to be a scientist like himself. And from a young age I proved to him and everyone around me that I could never live that path. To him I was a continuous disappointment, in school I chose Art based classes instead of advanced scientific ones. He never forgave me for my actions, not even when he died."

Spock drew a shaky breath, obviously trying to remain in control. Jim could only sit, watch and wait for Spock to continue.

"My mother, Amanda, was a government information specialist. After my birth she chose to quit her job in order to raise me in my father's absences. She was more understanding than Sarek, but I believe a part of her resented me. I believe she thought Sarek left for long periods of time because of his disappointment in me. I have no doubt she was correct. "

"My family's home was located on a secluded beach not far here. From the house you could always hear the waves crashing against the rocks. Sometimes, after my father would express his disappointment in me, I would go sit out on the beach. Often times I fell asleep watching the sun set and glow crimson, only to wake and see the vast emptiness of the night sky."

"I was very alone there. Being home schooled I had no friends. The only children my age that I knew were all children of government workers, and they were never kind to me. They hated my quietness, and the fact that I was of a mixed heritage, my father being Vulcan. Worse than that, the fact that I shamed my parents followed me everywhere, even in my family's home, if not most of all. So the sea and beach were my only sanctuary."

Spock closed his eyes once again, his face contorted into the very image of sorrow.

"Both my home and parents were terminated in the attack. I watched both my parents die. Their bodies desecrating from the chemicals, while they screamed in agony for me to help them. I myself barely escaped with my life; wounded badly I made my way here."

"Where I found you."

Spock nodded, pain obvious on every inch of his body.

"Spock...There was nothing you could have done..."

Spock snapped his head in Jim's direction, staring at him intently.

"I could have at least made them proud, Jim."


	4. Back In Iowa

Stunned into silence, Jim sat unmoving looking at the Vulcan across from him. He was beginning to see the the pieces of a stereotype shatter into truth. This boy was no emotionless, cold hearted freak that he had grown up being told all Vulcan's were. Spock was something more. He was a wounded creature that had been been abused for much to long. Only to be left alone in fractured world, morning the loss of his abusers. He was indeed very far from heartless.

Jim couldn't help but feel sorrow for this boy, Spock looked so broken. His ink like hair melting around his face, reflecting the fires light. Pointed ears painted a pale green at the tips peeking out from the dark strands. Spock seemed unapproachable, he sat with his knees drawn as close to his body as his stitched side would allow, arms wrapped around his legs. His brown eyes were looking into the fire viewing a distant time or place, perhaps his beach_. Sorrow dosnt suit him_. Jim thought mournfully.

Jim let out a very soft sigh, making up his mind. Zipping up his jacket he stood slowly, worn muscles protesting. Rubbing his legs for only a moment to ease the ache in them he moved around the fire to stand next to Spock. After a while Jim spoke "I know whats like."

"Jim?" The tall blonde's voice had woken him from his regret induced trance. But the humans words had puzzled him. Making him feel that perhaps he was missing something.

"I know what its like, feeling like a disappointment. Like you have no home, even if your sitting the house that's suppose to be it." _Amazing how alike we are..._ Shaking his head trying to get rid of his frivolous thoughts, Jim slowly began to sit down next the lugubrious teenager. He did this slowly, hoping to insure that Spock wouldn't feel uncomfortable with him invading his personal space. And if Spock did become to uncomfortable, he would have time to tell Jim. But as the human sat crosslegged at the Vulcan's side, Spock only shifted his eyes for an instant to view James from his peripheral.

"When I was younger we lived on a farm in Iowa, I suppose it was what you would call beautiful. I never saw it that way though. The only thing I ever that farm as was hell on earth. I was my parents and brother's work horse. I did _everything_for them, cooked for them, cleaned up after them, literally everything. My brother, Sam, he was my parents prized jewel. He was there golden son. And I, was the disappointing mistake that my parents never wanted. The only real reason they didn't give me up was that i was money in their pockets." Jim looked at Spock and gave him a small smile as if to mask the pain of his past.

"You see, my mother use to Poisson my flood and drinks. Ohh, not enough to kill me or anything serious like that, just enough so she could take me to the doctor at least once a week. Ultimately, getting disability money from my fake ailments."

"And your father did nothing about this James?" Spock asked enthralled and outraged at Jim's words._How could any parents do such things to a helpless child? James..._

Jim gave a sickingly strong laugh, as if Spock had said the funniest thing he had ever herd. Despite the fact the Spock didn't know it, he had indeed said one of the funniest things Jim had herd. After a few seconds Jim's laughter died, replacing it was the darkest look he had seen the boy wear yet.

"No, no he didn't do anything. He was to busy beating the shit out of me to care what my mother put in my food." Jim fell silent, rage burning in his eyes fiercer than any fire. The two of them sat like that for a long time. Spock still grasping his knees to his chest but he had become more relaxed with the humans warmth at his side. Jim however, had almost immediately began picking at his loose fitting jacket as if it was the most enthralling thing left in the city.

"It seems you are correct. Jim" Even only being nineteen Spock's voice was already quite deep considering being a Vulcan of his age. His words flowed off his tongue like liquid silk. Each syllable seeping to Jim's brain, setting his nerves afire. "We are not so different." Turning to look into Jim's eyes he continued "Nor are we so alone anymore."

_How can see say so little and make me feel so much? Who is this Vulcan?_Words were unnessisary as Jim placed his dirty, scared,_Beautiful_hand on Spock's broad shoulder and ever so slightly squeezed. Smiling he nodded.

_He smiles, and this world seems brighter...Fascinating._

To Be Continued...


	5. Midnight Awakening

All I have right now is spell check, bear with me ok :)

Please Rate and Review/comment! :D

"Sppooocckkk. Spock honey wake up. Its time to face the day" A distant sing song voice called to him.

"I do not wish to mother, I speculate in five more minutes I will be fully rested, please come back then to awaken me." Even half asleep, muffled by a thick comforter Spock sounded as Vulcan as ever. But despite his words the voice of this mother persisted.

"Spoccckkkk...Spock...SPOCK!" Three times his name had been repeated, and each time they morphed into something more and more different. No longer was it his mothers sweet sing song voice that once greeted him every morning. Now it was the voice of a teenage boy screaming frantically. His warm bed and comforter had turned into hard, ice cold, putrid smelling ground.

"Spock get up! Come on! Hurry we have to go!" _JIM! Of course, We fell asleep...But then why...?_

Spock's thoughts were cut off by Jim shaking his shoulder. "Jim? What...?"

"Spock, you have to get, we have to hurry. We. Have. To. Go. NOW." Jim's voice kept breaking. His smooth face was flushed, and he was sweating. Panicked eyes, like a caged animal ready to attack bore holes into Spock's head.

Confused Spock inhaled deeply trying to understand what the human was so frantic about. Icy october air drained into his lungs, and as they filled to there maximum capacity something more seeped into his lungs as well. Not a smell, but an essence, the essence of a million rotting corpses floating in the stench of there own bile, excrement and puss. Worst of all as he had inhaled the smell had had glided across his tongue, impregnating it with the accompanying taste. He felt like he was suffocating. The Vulcan exhaled quickly trying to rid his body of the essence of death itself.

Inhaling again trying to draw in a untainted breath Spock gagged on his own tongue as the smells and tastes reentered his body. Coughing, he finally understood. They were coming. They were comming to peal the flesh from from there still vigilant body's. To feast on Jim and Spock as they screamed in agony at every pair of unnaturally sharp, feral teeth tore junks of muscle and nerves from there bones. They would keep them alive and awake for every torture for two reasons, to keep the meat fresh and, to cure there dehydration with Jim and Spock's Blood as it spewed from thier every vein .

Still gagging Spock rose from the Jim's sleeping bag that he had so kindly lent him only hours before. As he went to quickly pick the bag up in an effort to escape the impending doom his side shot his nerves with an electric shock of pain that seemed to ripple to every part of his body. "Gahh" His voice was dripping with pain as he felt a single stitch slowly pull away from the edge of his wound tearing the skin. His emerald tinted face seemed to bleach itself of all color at the pain. Persperation rose to create a sheen all over his body. He was forced to stop himself from doubling over.

"Shit Spock, Be careful. Don't worry about the bag, ill get it." Jim's voice had a current of a million volts fear running through it. Spock could see Jim physically shaking, even though the human was obvioudly trying to remain calm.

Without a moment of hesitation Jim picked up an old, beat up grey and black hiking backpack that he had been using as a pillow, shoving all the makeshift camps contents into is as fast as he possibly could. When the zip was finally closed Jim looked up at Spock and paled, the deep sticky green was already soaking through Jim's borrowed shirt on top of Spock's gash.

"Spock are you go-" Pressing thee Vulcan fingers to the bleed to apply pressure, Spock's words interrupted Jim's almost hysterical voice.

"I theorize that as long as i keep a steady pressure to the point I will be able to escape."

Jim opened his mouth as if to ask Spock if he was sure, but he never got the chance as trash cans at the opposite end of the ally cashed and the stench got impossibly stronger, Then they saw them, gleaming in the moonlight...

DUN DUN DA DUNNNNNHHH! D:

R&R


	6. Run!

"Fuck! Run. Run Spock! Come on! Lets Go!" Jim threw the last of the things in his bag and slung it over his shoulder. But at his side Spock had turned to stone. His face lost all its color and he was unresponsive, and worst of all, unmoving. The Vulcan boy stood in the middle of the alley way, frozen, shaking, dilated pupil's glued on the rotten masses of flesh charging at them, hungry animals ready to kill.

"Spock! Come on! We have to get away!" Panicked, shaking Jim screamed in the other boys face. Frantic he looked down the alley to their exit, then back the beings closing in on them. And for a moment a thought drifted into his 17 year old mind._ I could leave him here. He's bleeding, they can smell him, they'll go after him first. I could leave him here, and it would give me time to get away as there...as there killing him._ Jim looked back to the frightened boy for only a split second, memories of learning about this boys life as the Vulcan had huddled near the small fire only hours ago, learning of the boys pain, they flooded Jims mind once again. And one word followed such reflections. _No_.

"SPOCK!" The Vulcan's head slowly turned a fraction towards Jim's scream. And as Spock met his eyes. Jim raised his hand, and almost as hard as his father use to strike him, he slapped Vulcan boy across the face. But not in anger or malice. But in caring, kinship, and determination. He would _not_ leave Spock behind. They were of a brotherhood, they shared the knowledge of what it felt like to be desecrated by people of ones own blood, they knew what it was to live in the reminisce of this world. They were brothers.

"Jim." Realisation lit in Spock's eyes, the world came flooding back to him. _The Beings!_ "Now Jim! Run!"

Finally sure that Spock would be close behind Jim bolted for the opposite end of the alley, desperate for Spock's episode had only lasted less then a few seconds it was enough for the mutated things to gain an advantage. Terrified for their lived the boys ran. Each of their footsteps reverberating off the dirty walls and sounded off like gunshot rounds.

Behind them the hungry creatures sought after their prey. While they smelt of the dead they were very much alive. In the beginning, right after the attack they had been compared to the traditional stereotype of a zombie. But as more of the mutated appeared people understood, zombies were made up, fiction. The mutated, were reality. While they did indeed practice cannibalism, they were not mindless, driven only by the need to feed. They were intelligent, if not geniuses. Only hindered were they by there new chemically altered bodies.

There mouths foamed a grey substance, a result the chemicals had on there digestive track. Faces no longer resembled the Terrans, Andorians, Kilingons, And many other species they once were. Now, flesh melted into a new form, the were a new species all on there own. Body's were the most radically changed. Many had lost limbs, only to grow several new ones in its place. Some of the mutated were forced to adapt by learning to crawl with there front limbs, dragging their broken body's behind them, hardened intestines being ground into the cement by the weight of there useless abdomens. Others were fortunate, the chemicals caused them to grow long hind extremity's enabling them to tower up to nine feet in the air. There were even few who had meshed with one or more beings creating a modern day hydra.

These mutated began to jump and hurl themselves at Jim and Spock trying to grasp the boys. Jim risked to look behind them, the creatures had fallen slightly behind, due to the fact that over twenty of them were all trying to force themselves through the narrow alley at the same time.

Beside him Jim could here the distinct sound of wheezing. He shot a glance at Spock. While the Vulcans long legs were swiftly caring him to the mouth of the alley he had clearly torn out all of his stitches, blood stained his palm, cascading down his side and his leg until it left a trail behind him, driving the mutated insane with hunger.

Gritting his teeth Jim glanced at the alleyway opening. This was becoming a nightmare. They didn't seem like they were getting any closer to the exit. Every time they took a step forward they would hit a patch of frozen bile or stagnate water, causing them to fall two steps back. The wheezing in his ear only got louder.

_If this keeps up we are not going to make it. Spock's gonna bleed to death before we get anywhere close. There has to be a way out. I didn't come this far to die!_

**Chapter End Notes:**


	7. Explosion

"Jim-" Spock's words are consumed by violent wheezing then sputtering coughs. Droplets of jade blood leap from his mouth as his body tries to purge itself of the excess blood. For what seems like eternity the hacking and wheezing goes on, then I realize - it's not going to stop. Spock's panicked eyes lock with mine - he's begging for answers, for me to get us out of here.

Think Jim! There has to be a way out! I'm desperate to think of something, anything. I try scanning the alleyway for something to use, but it's dark and we're running too fast for me to see anything, it's all just a blur. Despair, doubt, guilt fill me and I wonder... can I die with these feelings? Can I die knowing I caused this boy's death because I wasn't strong enough to save us? But as I hear Spock's wet, rasping breath and his feet striking the ground in determination I begin to realize. He's practically dying; he's bleeding all over the place, coughing up  
>blood. And yet, he's still running, he hasn't given up, he's still fighting for his life. If he's fighting...I won't give up. I'll fight too.<p>

As the last word melts from my thoughts into the night I see it. Not twenty feet ahead, a mutilated corpse, but in its detached hand lies salvation - a small, silver hand phaser. If I could find a way to use it to our advantage, charge the cell to build up or...The power cell. There's no guarantee it's even charged. It's our only chance.

We're closing in on the corpse fast. Almost there, almost beneath our very frantic feet something shifts. The ground rumbles and shakes. The subway speeders, of course. Even after the attack the world's solar panels continued to power everything even when  
>people weren't around to control them. Rail cars still made their daily stops, vid screens without signals can still be heard broadcasting the sound of static.<p>

If the subway is beneath us... then perhaps I can blast a hole through the ground - it should only be the regulation eight feet thick. Its worth a try. We reach the corpse and I dart for it, screaming at Spock to keep running. But as I try to pull the phaser from the lifeless hand it won't budge. Rigor mortis. Desperate as the creatures close in I stomp on the hand until i hear loud cracks, breaking the bones of the fingers.

Clawing at the splintered hand it finally releases the phaser. As soon as I feel its gentle warmth against my palm I bolt. My legs scream in protest as I push them past their limit to catch up with Spock. Fiddling with the phaser as I come alongside him I my heart leaps, the cell is three fourths full, almost a full charge. I just need to find a place for Spock and I to take cover as the cell builds up...

"Jim..." A wet wheeze separates Spock's words, but he makes up for it by pointing to a large crevice in the alley's wall. It's only about half a meter wide and two meters deep. It will be close, but we can squeeze in.

Setting the phaser to build up I lock eyes with my Vulcan companion. He nods and I know he understands. Closing my eyes for a split second I pray to an absent god this works, then, toss the phaser as hard as I can over my shoulder.

As soon hear it hit the icy ground behind us I grab Spock and shove him into the wall first, pushing him into the farthest end of the wall's opening, pressing my body against his wounded frame, desperate to protect him from the shrapnel that will soon be assaulting us.

"Jim...you..." Spock's words are drowned out by an unbearable, engulfing sound. The phaser's explosion. Before another word may enter my mind I feel hot metal searing into my back, melting into my skin. My screams are muted by the blast's never ending sound. Excruciating pain shoots through my limbs and consumes every living cell in my body. Scarcely aware of my actions I grasp the front of my shirt where it lies on Spock's chest. It's soaked with his blood, it smells of him, but the pain that's consuming me overpowers everything.

I press my forehead on that alien chest and try to swallow my own screams. As I do a dry hand finds my temple. A calming voice fills my  
>mind killing all the pain, filling me with calm. Shh...James. There is no pain...only darkness...there is no pain...only calm. I have you James...you're safe...you saved us...give in to the darkness. A cooling relief washes over my body, radiating from my temple, from this boy's hand. I feel safe, as if nothing can touch me when Spock's here. Spock...what did he...But the world blinks out of existence as I fall into unconsciousness.<p> 


End file.
